Stories of Ansalon from the view of Dauer.

Astinus says 'Enter the main library here to view only the author list.'
Astinus gently places a large book on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Dauer' scribed in earth-colored green ink.

Author: Dauer
Date: Sat Oct 23 05:38:01 2010
Subject Exile
Waves swell and break. Foam gathers then bursts against the smooth wooden
hull, oil-stained, and barnable-covered. A minotaur stands at the prow-her
body gently swaying in motion with the ship. SHe stands with legs braced and
arms crossed before her tatterred robes. Her head is bowed in
concentration-eyes closed. Water leaps over the railing and lightly spatter
her crimson hide. Nostrils flare every few minutes-controlled breaths. Scars
criss-cross her hands and twist around her forearms, disappearing into the
robe's sleeves.
"Ho! Runt. We reach Palanthas soon." Dauer flicks her tail once. After weeks
on the ship, the crew knew this as a sign of her acknowledgement. When she
first approached them they nearly threw her overobard-but she defeated the
captain in a duel, unarmed. Embarassed-they kept silent and agreed to grant
her passage.
A black shape darts overhead. Swift. Silent. Dauer's ears twitch slightly.
No one else reacts. A feather drifts down. It trails the tips of her horns,
twirls above her snout, and hovers over her arms. Before it sinks further,
she casually grabs i t. Opens her eyes and glances aside at it. It's a
fairly long feather-probably from plummage of a large avian. It's black and
gleams a blood-red in the sunlight. She looks ahead and Palanthas spears the
horizon. Tucking the feather into her sleeves, Dauer turns towards the
cabins to gather her meager possessions. Her exile begins.

The Storytellers of Ansalon, The DragonLance MUD

Astinus points to the massive wall of books behind him and bids you to make a selection.